Broken Soldiers
by Epiwsedis
Summary: The war is over, the Decepticons scattered, and several characters find life after The Great War is just a little harder to adjust to than they thought.
1. Broken Soldiers

_Hasbro owns all characters. I'm just playing with them in my own toybox._

_This is my first attempt at this sort of thing, any and all reviews, feedback and criticism will be very welcome as I aim to improve._

_Based, for the most part on the cartoon, albeit with certain bits from UK comics continuity thrown in._

"Well, that felt like it was never gonna end," the affable green robot, Springer, remarked drily to his larger companion.

"Attending Galactic Council meetings might not be the most entertaining way to spend a few days, but it's a step we have to take if we want to show the rest of the galaxy that we can play a full part, especially now that our civil war is over," replied Ultra Magnus "and since Rodimus always had an excuse not to attend, it falls on me, with you as my pilot, to go and make nice with the politicians."

"Civil war, huh?" mused Springer. "It never felt overly civil to me when laser fire was whizzing past my optics."

If Magnus was amused, he showed no sign of it. But then he never did. A loyal and formidable soldier, he was having a tough time adjusting to the peace that had broken out since the final defeat of Galvatron's forces two vorns ago. Rodimus was heavily involved in the efforts to rebuild Cybertron, and Magnus had, despite protestations to the contrary, begun a new life as a diplomat. As for Springer, he had quickly settled into an easy life of performing odd-jobs in and around Iacon, and serving as a shuttle pilot to Magnus was always a good way to spend some time off Cybertron. Springer did get bored easily.

Magnus broke the silence as he peered through the viewing screens in his cramped shuttle. "Springer. This isn't Cybertron."

Springer's grin was a mile wide. "Nope, welcome to Monacus, Magnus. Time for a little R&R methinks!"

"Is there any way I can talk you out of this?"

"There's more chance of Kup not beginning a sentence with 'back in my day' than there is of you talking me out of this. The conference finished early, we're not due back for another couple of cycles, and I'm thirsty. Let's move."

"Springer, Transformers don't even get thirsty. Why not just hook up to your recharge slab when we get back?"

"Because Magnus, my dear friend, my recharge slab isn't slab bang in the middle of Monacus, surrounded by some of the weird and wonderful chancers of the galaxy! Where's your sense of adventure?

"I had enough adventures to last two lifetimes during the Great War."

"Given what happened on Junk with the late Galvatron after the Battle of Autobot City, I'd say you're in that second lifetime just now, pal. Let's liven it up a bit."

Springer docked his ship the _Deal With That Now_ on the mechanoids section of the asteroid, and tipped one of the droid attendants a few shanix. The pair walked past a number of mechanoid organisms who regarded them with suspicion as they made their way through the hub. Cybertronians were not well thought of by other races in the galaxy, and not without good reason. Many a planet had fallen prey to Decepticon raiding parties over the previous few millennia, and news that the war was over and the Decepticon army all but destroyed had not done much to alter the hostility towards Cybertronians.

"Nice to be popular, huh Mags?" Springer smirked towards his companion as they strode across the concourse, still with several sets of optics set upon them in open hostility. Some unpleasant murmurings and threats of violence were clearly audible.

"It's Ultra Magnus, Springer, and yeah, I can definitely sense that we are unwelcome here. Cant they tell the difference between Autobot and Decepticon?"

"Those names are obsolete now, Mags. We're all just peaceful little Cybertronians now. Anyway, I know a great little hive of scum and villainy we can go to. We wont get any hassle based on race reasons there. They normally don't need a reason at this place."

The pair made their way past some of the more prominent and brightly lit establishments until they reached a slightly more dingy area of the precinct. Springer had clearly been here several times before, Magnus thought grimly to himself. Well, local knowledge is always handy. Eventually they came up to the door of the Elapsus Cantina. Two huge bouncers, clearly originating from the planet Mil-Wal, barred the way. They were level in height with Ultra Magnus, who was considered huge by most Transformer standards, and had Energo-Axes holstered at their waists.

The burlier of the two leaned into Springer's face. "Tell you what we told other Transformer! No cause any trouble, or we smash you!"

"No problem guys," Springer answered his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "Just here for a drink or two, right?"

"Drink! No trouble, or smash, understand?"

"Me Grimlock understand." Springer said, as Ultra Magnus tried not to smile. Occasionally Springer could find the humour in the most bizarre of situations, and the bouncers certainly resembled the cantankerous Dinobot leader and his refined approach to life.

The bouncers stepped aside and Springer and Magnus entered the dimly lit bar. Magnus, as was his force of habit, quickly scanned the busy areas of the room, looking for possible threats. Old habits died hard after all.

Several mechanoids were gathered round a table playing poker. The Earth game had caught on huge in Monacus, once the humans had started to integrate with the Galactic Council, and almost all Earthern gambling games were now an institution galaxy-wide. Gambling was only supposed to happen in licensed casinos on Monacus, so no doubt this game was illegal. Magnus assumed the authorities must have been paid off. Anyone coming round to close the game down was gonna have a tough time getting past the two brutes on the door anyway.

At a table beside the card game, two larger mechs were negotiating prices for the smuggling of small arms to outposts on the Ryhbhus Fringe. A smaller mech stood beside the table with a briefcase attached to his wrist by energy-manacles.

Elsewhere a couple of FFF (Female Form Fandango) Pleasure Mechs from Hedonia Seven were dancing for an extremely loud group of Lurgian patrons at the far tables. Make that _on_ the tables, Springer thought, as the pair vaulted seamlessly atop the tables while the mechs watching cheered their approval. One of the Lurgians appeared to be celebrating his upcoming life-bonding to a mech who plainly wasn't in attendance. This kind of activity reminded Springer of a human ritual Bumblebee had attended with Spike prior to his marriage to Carly. A bachelor party, the confused yellow mini-bot had told Springer.

They made their way to the bar. One Tetragonian explorer sat face down on the bar, a small puddle of unrefined weapons-grade energon collecting by his unconscious mouth. The barkeep, an organic (Cefurian, by Springer's guess) eyed them suspiciously.

"What'll it be, 'bots? You looking for something high-grade, or ya sticking to Engex like ya friend over there?"

"Friend?" Ultra Magnus queried aloud as the pair turned in the direction the barkeeper had indicated.

Sat in a corner, alone, his purple optics trained on the pair, was Cyclonus.


	2. Dulled Memories

Cyclonus stared at his vial of Engex as if it contained the very secrets of Vector Sigma itself. His thoughts turned - as they often did given his life of quiet solitude - to that final battle on Junk.

_Yellow and purple laser fire. Bruticus collapses as Ultra Magnus, perched on the Combaticon Combiner's faceplate, unleashes both missiles and a clip of ammo at point blank range into the monster's face. Topspin falls as Cyclonus fist smashes into the side of his head, metal cracking and purple liquid spurting from a crack. Probably not fatal, if treated quickly. To the right, Devastator stumbles and flails blindy as Junkions swarm up his body, his feet crushing some of the insanely chattering fools, even as they continue to swarm him. _

_Scourge swoops down from above and transforms into robot mode next to Cyclonus._

_"You were right, this is insanity. We cannot win here. We never could. Our casualties are mounting too quickly." Scourge, normally so unflappable, at least recognised a lost cause when he saw one._

_"We fight. Our flagship still stands, and we will fight until Galvatron says otherwise."_

_Suddenly laser fire ripped into the area around the two Decepticon lieutenants, as the three remaining functional Aerialbots, Slingshot, Air Raid and Skydive strafed the area. Pain exploded in Cyclonus midsection as an incendiary charge hit him._

_"Scourge! Tell what's left of the Sweeps to win back the sky!" _

_"Negative." Scourge replies, rolling for cover as the Aerialbots turned to commence another run. "Galvatron's orders - all aerial troops to assist the flagship."_

_Cyclonus curses to himself as he squeezed a volley of fire off at the approaching Aerialbots, then dived to avoid the return fire as they zoomed overhead. He risks a quick glance upwards._

_Above the planet, the Decepticon flagship poured laser fire into a pair of Autobot shuttles and two Junkion cruisers, who returned fire with equal vigour. The surface of all five ships seemed to ripple with a constant flow of tiny explosions. Sweeps and Seekers fought around the behemoth ships with Autobot fliers and Sky Lynx. Galvatron himself was outside the flagship, his particle cannon wreaking a heavy toll on one of the Autobot juggernauts._

_"We're getting nowhere!" snaps Cyclonus. He hurled his rifle to the floor (how he had frequently wanted to that with the late Nebulon, Nightstick) and drew a machine pistol as the Aerialbots closed again. He ignored all distractions and calmly brought down Air Raid and Slingshot with controlled bursts of fire. He then leapt at the last second atop the passing Skydive, and ripped a wing clean off the struggling Autobot. _

_Cyclonus jumped clear and landed beside Scourge clear as the Aerialbot span out of control and crashed. _

_"Impressive as ever, Cyclonus. Now transform and lets go help Galvatron."_

_"I cannot Scourge. My transformation cog was damaged in the initial exchange of fire. Brainstorm tagged me with some kind of explosive shell. I will have to remain here, and hold the li-"_

_A massive explosion caused a temporary stop in the fighting as all sets of optics turned skyward. The starboard engine on the Decepticon ship had exploded under heavy fire, and the ship was breaking up. The Decepticons would be sitting ducks for the Autobot shuttles. The explosion had caught Galvatron in it's blast, who was plummeting towards the planets surface, amid the fiery wreckage of his prized ship._

_To the left, the Decepticon line broke as controlled fire from Sandstrom, Springer, Broadside and the Lamborghini twins and the usual head on assault from the Dinobots tore Predaking apart. Snapdragon and Misfire were gunned down by Hardhead and Nightbeat. As Cyclonus prepared to throw himself into the fray, the right side of the Decepticon line began to break. The Protectobots, Technobots and Throttlebots had emerged from one of the Autobot shuttles and were pushing the Decepticons back._

_Laser fire. Explosions. Screams of the dying. The impact of metal on metal. Molten debris raining down, and the sky was on fire above the planet Junk, where the Decepticons made their final stand. Here, on a planet of junk, and all at the whim of a madman who they had all, Cyclonus espcially, followed blindly. Cyclonus fired until his pistol clicked at the approaching Defensor, and threw it away. He prepared to sell his life dearly, just as the other engine from the Decepticon craft arrived on the planet's surface and exploded. _

_He remembered no more. The darkness had taken him, and he felt himslef entering entering stasis-lock. However, he felt something within his spark, even as he mercifully slipped from consciousness. A sense of both loss and freedom. Drifting forever, side by side._

Perhaps stasis lock had been both blessing and curse, Cyclonus mused to himself, as he absent-mindedly swirled the dark purple Engex around the glass vial it had been served in. A blessing, as he hadn't witnessed the deaths of his comrades, Galvatron and Scourge – Cyclonus cared little for the other Decepticons – and a curse because he had been unable to do anything to prevent their demise.

He himself had drifted in stasis lock for a long-time until his Unicron-grifted internal repair systems had brought him back online, broken, battered, and in the early stages of energon-deprivation. Worse, the damage to his transformation cog was beyond his internal repair systems, and he had yet to find either opportunity or person to attend to it. What was a Transformer without the ability to transform?

He had managed to fly, in his much slower robot form to an old abandoned Decepticon depot nearby, and refuel. A trip to Epsilon Minor, a small interstellar fuelling depot had led to him spending several days catching up on Galactic news reports, including an in-depth report on the end of the Transformers civil war, and a (hugely exaggerated) report on the final battle on Junk.

After that, Cyclonus had used the black market sale of what weapons he had scavenged from the abandoned depot (Decepticon weapons were highly-prized amongst crime syndicates) to purchase a single-seater planet hopper, which was, frankly, one step up from piloting a Junkion through space but without his alt mode, Cyclonus couldn't really afford to be choosy.

Cyclonus had left the spaceport and gone back to the depot. He had rebuilt some of it, and spent a long time in seclusion. However, his loss of his alt mode had bothered him, and that was why he found himself here, in a pathetic bar on some pathetic leisure planet, looking for someone who might be able to find him a medic familiar with Cybertronian alt-modes.

The people who knew people, he surmised, were always found in the most wretched of places. This bar was certainly that. Still, you could always remain anonymous in a place like this if you didn't draw any attention to yourself. Monacus had little interest in fugitives from wars. All he needed was to ask the right questions, find a medic, and he could depart without fuss. Maybe do a bit of exploring of some of the outer systems...

A flash of a strangely-familiar green metal caught the edge of Cyclonus' optics, and he looked to the bar. His eyes narrowed as he recognised the pair of mechanoids.

Springer. Ultra Magnus. _Autobots!_


	3. Unresolved Conflicts

It had been a long time since Ultra Magnus had felt like a soldier, but his instincts had not been dulled by inactivity. He immediately scanned the room, identifying the exits, the number of mechs present who could get caught up in any exchange, and the posture and demeanour of the staff. Residual energon emissions indicated the presence of energy weapons behind the bar, presumably for dealing with trouble-makers, and whilst he had no doubt the weapons could do little damage to himself or Springer (and Cyclonus for that matter) he couldn't say the same about some of the less robust-looking bar patrons.

If possible, Magnus decided to himself, conflict needed to be avoided. Besides, he was actually curious about where Cyclonus had been. With the death of Galvatron, Autobot strategists had all theorised that Cyclonus would take up the leadership of the Decepticon remnants. Instead, nothing had happened, leading the High Command to list the Decepticon as "Missing –Presumed Dead" in the Great Litany of all who had fought and died for both sides in the Great War.

"He's looking straight at us, Magnus. What's the plan?" Springer's tone had changed from his usual affable self to the all-business 'bot that Magnus had fought shoulder to shoulder with for centuries.

"We can't afford a scene in here, Springer. Too many variables, and I don't really want to have to fight those bruisers outside as well as a Decepticon lieutenant. Let's see if he fancies having a civil conversation. "

Springer smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"You're curious Magnus. You wanna know what happened to the Decepticon who was as close to your 'opposite number' as it gets, aren't you?"

Magnus ignored the question. Springer knew him well enough to know when he was right.

The two Autobots slowly walked over to the table. Cyclonus kept his optics fixed on them, but remained calmly seated, impassive and inscrutable.

Springer spoke first.

"Cyclonus. Been a long time -we don't want any trouble. Can we sit down?"

The Decepticon looked at Springer then at Magnus. He returned his steely gaze to Springer. His words were methodic and evenly delivered, in the low rumble that few Autobots had heard.

"Sit if you wish, Autobots. I will make no effort to stop you. I too desire no conflict at this time."

Magnus slowly sat down opposite the Decepticon. Springer pulled a chair alongside them, sitting alongside Magnus so as to avoid giving the impression of penning the Decepticon in.

"What are you doing here, Cyclonus?" Ultra Magnus wasted no time cutting to the chase.

At the moment, drinking and reminiscing. If you refer to my reasons for being back in this system, they are my own, and not your affair."

"Not the answer I was looking for."

"It's the only answer you will get at this time, Magnus."

Springer cut in.

"We thought you must have been dead after the Decepticon remnants splintered." He began matter-of-factly. "You were next in line to take command. You never showed again. We knew you weren't the running-away type either. What happened?"

Cyclonus, finally dropped his gaze from the Autobots and contemplated his Engex.

"Stasis-lock. I was badly injured in the explosion of an engine from our destroyed cruiser. I drifted for a long time in cold space. Eventually I came back online, and the universe had changed as I slept. No Decepticons, no Galvatron, no Scourge, no war, and seemingly no place for me."

He raised his optics again to meet Magnus' own, as the tall Autobot continued to question him.

"Weren't you curious about the other Decepticons? Your comrades-in-arms?"

"No." The starkness of the Decepticon's response surprised Springer, but Magnus remained stoic.

"I was created from a corpse by a being whose power and essence I cannot begin to comprehend." Cyclonus said, staring darkly again at the Engex. "I have no memories before that point. I did not exist. The being that I took the place of was wiped from existence and I began anew. A warrior. A weapon. Bound through loyalty and creation to Galvatron, my master, and in brotherhood to Scourge. They are dead. I _felt_ Galvatron die just before I went into stasis lock, and the last of Unicron's power over me died with him. The other Decepticons were, with very few exceptions, a collection of low-lives, opportunists and cowards."

"Do you even know who you were before your, uh, re-formatting?" Springer asked, bluntly.

Cyclonus showed no sign of offence at the triple-changer's direct questioning. "No. And again, I do not care. Some say Skywarp, some say Bombshell or an Insecticon clone. It matters not. I believe, if I had any prior knowledge of my past self, I - like Galvatron who retained Megatron's memories - would also have been driven mad. Whom the Gods wish to destroy, they first drive mad."

Ultra Magnus had never heard for definite exactly how Galvatron and his augmented forces had come to be, and listened fascinated to his every word. It was also unusual, particularlly for a Transformer as 'young' if you could describe Cyclonus as that, to mention God or Gods, or indeed any religious aspects. Before he could ask another question, however, Cyclonus asked a question of his own.

"Are either of you Autobots religious in any way? It is a topic that our race rarely considers and rarer still discusses, however it is one I have had plenty of time to consider, given my recent trevails."

"No, I don't follow any religion." Ultra Magnus replied first.

Springer answered next "I don't either, although I used to discuss it with some of the humans from time to time. Their race has a number of religions, the majority of which feature one deity or God."

"I believe I was created by a God." Cyclonus stated.

Both Autobots looked at him quizzically. If Cyclonus noticed, he gave no inclination, and continued speaking.

"Unicron was a being beyond our comprehension. Yes, in size and scale, he merely represented a Transformer of limitless power, and most scholars look upon him as such, from what I can find. But most scholars believe he "rebuilt" the three of us. He did not. He willed our change, and it came into being. That is power beyond my understanding. Beyond science. He gave me a spark and consciousness, Magnus! Think of that! Transformers given life beyond Vector Sigma. It should be impossible, yet it wasn't. Why?"

Cyclonus knocked back his Engex, he narrowed his optics as the buzz flowed through his circuits. Ultra Magnus considered his response, and, following a pause, responded.

"I don't know the answer to any of your questions, Cyclonus. I doubt many beings do. Is that your purpose in life now? To wander aimlessly looking for answers to your existence? You could be more than that you know."

Cyclonus laughed. A hollow, mirthless chuckle, bereft of any sign of amusement.

"What would you have me do, Magnus? Wander bars on Monacus like yourself and Springer here? Join the Autobots? Fawn and simper over Optimus Prime? Babysit the Dinobots? No. I am not Autobot, and have no desire to watch you all try to rebuild Cybertron. But I have enjoyed our discussion."

"So what now?" Springer asked. "You just head off and we let Autobot High Command know there is a powerful Decepticon wandering around suffering from an existenital crisis? I don't think so."

Ultra Magnus cut in. "Springer, wait. Can you give us some space? I want to speak to Cyclonus one-to-one for a minute."

Springer hesitated for a moment, but his trust in Ultra Magnus overcame his instinct to fight the Decepticon. He moved his chair back, gave Magnus a nod and headed back to the bar, which was now growing busier.

Cyclonus watched him depart and turned to face Ultra Magnus.

"Speak Magnus. What troubles you?"

"Tell me why you are here, Cyclonus. I can't let you go without knowing what you are doing. I simply can't - but if you give me your word that you mean no harm to us, I will let you go. You once saved my life, and I want to help you if I can."

Cyclonus shrugged.

"I was injured on Junk. I cannot transform, I'm looking for a black market medic to fix me. That's the sole reason why I'm here, Magnus. I have no cause to fight for anymore beyond my own survival, which will be greatly improved by avoiding confrontations with Autobots. I give you my word that I do not intend to restart a Decepticon Empire, or bestow any harm upon you or Springer unless provoked."

"Okay. That's good enough for me. You know, if you wanted to come with us to Cybertron, we could get First Aid to look at you-"

"Stop. I'm not accompanying you to Cybertron. My life, my destiny and my search for answers are my own. A prison cell on Cybertron will not help."

Ultra Magnus looked at Cyclonus for several seconds. Then he nodded and rose to leave.

"Goodbye Cyclonus. I hope you find some purpose - and some answers."

"Farewell Ultra Magnus. When next you or Springer discuss religion with the humans, could you ask them a question for me?"

Magnus was surprised. "What's the question?"

"What does an angel do when God is dead?"

With that Cyclonus turned away from Magnus and lowered his head. Springer walked over and plonked another vial of Engex down on the table.

"Let's go, Magnus. See ya Cyclonus."

The Autobots left, Magnus weaving his bulky form between patrons, offering apologies as he knocked into several of them.

Cyclonus watched them go. He contemplated the vial of Engex, and knocked it back, as a fiery glow burned through his circuits. Trust an Autobot to buy the cheapest stuff in the place.


End file.
